


When is a Monster Not a Monster?

by BroImLooking



Series: dream smp fics [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Baking, Demon Dream, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Morality Talk, M/M, Metaphors, Minor Injuries, Soul Bond, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit are Siblings, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, Tubbo lowkey gets adopted, Written after the January 6th Stream, demon badboyhalo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28613685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroImLooking/pseuds/BroImLooking
Summary: Tubbo needs to know how to kill a demon. He doesn't know anyone better to ask than the man married to one.title taken from the poem "Start Here" by Caitlyn Siehl
Relationships: BadBoyHalo/Skeppy, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: dream smp fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161431
Comments: 46
Kudos: 734





	When is a Monster Not a Monster?

“Dream needs to go, Skeppy,” Tubbo said, voice firm and steady. He was sure that he at least looked more confident than he felt, even with the soot-covered suit and collage of fresh wounds that dotted every inch of his skin. The quartz ground was rough underneath his feet where he’d lost his shoes and hadn’t had the time or ability to get new ones. He’d never liked using material from the nether in his own builds, personally. It felt like no matter what he did to it, the smell of burning always clung to it. 

The diamond man in front of him blinked sleepily, confused as he stood in his own doorway. It seemed like Tubbo woke him up despite it being the middle of the afternoon. The sun was only just beginning to dip down towards the horizon, and still had several hours left before it was gone completely. The light glinted harshly off of Skeppy’s gemstone body.

“So… You come to me about it?” Skeppy asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes with a gentle clinking sound. “We’re not part of all of your drama, Tubbo. I don’t think we’ve ever even talked before.” His voice was blunt, bordering on rude. Tubbo cringed a little, and his face burned, but he stood his ground.

“I need to know how to kill a demon,” Tubbo said, trying not to succumb to his embarrassment. Skeppy was right; they hadn’t ever spoken before. It was a little rude to come to him demanding answers. Skeppy’s expression turned sour. In Tubbo’s defense, though, he didn’t know any mortal on the server who would know more about demons than the man married to one.

“Who says I know anything about that?” Skeppy asked, amusement in his tone, as if Tubbo’s need for information was funny to him. Tubbo averted his eyes, unable to hold the man’s dark gaze anymore. 

He hadn’t  _ wanted _ to come begging information from a man he never had a meaningful conversation with. Skeppy had fought on his side against Schlatt in the past, so he’d hoped that maybe he’d have some sort’ve loyalty to him. Tubbo was starting to become desperate. Dream seemed to have everyone in the entire surrounding area in his demonic grip. Even those not knowingly under his control were doing his bidding. He knew even Skeppy had some type of unsteady allegiance with Dream, though he was fairly certain that it didn’t really hold much weight. He bit his lip hard, trying to come up with a valid answer.

Taking his silence as admittance of defeat, Skeppy began to shut the door. Tubbo shoved his foot into it before it could close completely. 

“Please,” he said, voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again, voice steadier this time. “Can I talk to Badboyhalo, then?” 

Skeppy looked him over a few times, before snorting and shrugging. “Sure, why not. Come in, kid.” He took a step back and opened the door all the way.

Tubbo had never been inside the dwelling of any demon, but this wasn’t anything like what he’d expect. The house was bright and open, with tall ceilings and plenty of natural light from the massive windows. It was warm inside, but not overwhelmingly so. It smelled like something was baking, and the sweet smell reminded Tubbo of how hungry he was. It was clean, but clearly lived in, with trinkets and gemstones scattered around on tables and neatly piled on the floors.

“Bad!” Skeppy called out, his voice suddenly full of cheer. Badboyhalo was there in an instant, looming over the pair with his bright eyes.

Tubbo was a short guy, and he was always incredibly aware of that fact. Growing up with three extremely tall brothers made him used to feeling small. He almost took comfort in the familiar feeling of being dwarfed. 

Badboyhalo’s height, on the other hand, only made him uncomfortable.

The demon was absolutely huge. If Tubbo had to guess, he had to be around ten feet tall. He was big enough that he could probably kill someone Tubbo’s size with a single punch. Skeppy, who was barely an inch or so taller than him, didn’t seem intimidated at all. He strolled over to the demon as casually as anything, as if he didn’t only barely come eye-level with his waist. 

“There’s a kid here who wants information on demons,” Skeppy said, sounding almost bored. Bad turned his gaze to Tubbo, tilting his head in confusion. He didn’t have any type of malice in his expression, but the direct eye contact still made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

Tubbo wanted to like Bad. The guy was practically a saint, despite his species. He mostly kept to himself and Skeppy, but wasn’t a stranger to stepping in just to help out if needed. He also knew that he’d been helping Quackity develop healthier coping mechanisms recently, and spent time with him so that he didn’t have to be alone with his memories.

But the truth was that Badboyhalo freaked Tubbo out. He’d always been afraid of demons. It was why he avoided Dream and Sapnap to the best of his ability. He was so afraid of them that he’d taken to reading every book about them he could get his hands on, despite how much of a struggle it was to read. The books said that demons were always evil, and Tubbo couldn’t help but feel, deep down, Bad was just as terrible as the other two demons running rampant on the server. It was in a demon’s nature.

“I need to know how to kill Dream,” Tubbo swallowed past the lump in his throat. His voice was rough. He wished that Tommy was there with him. Tubbo had never been good with words, unlike Tommy, who’s incredible charisma charmed almost everyone he spoke to. Tommy was busy, though, and as much as both of them hated to separate again after reconnecting so soon they both had their own jobs to do. He shook those thoughts off. He had more pressing matters that needed to be handled. “I know demons are technically immortal, but there has to be some way to kill them, right?” 

Bad blinked at him, narrowing his eyes. Tubbo resisted the urge to shudder. He could never understand how none of the others were scared of him. His horns reminded Tubbo uncomfortably of Schlatt, even though they were a completely different shape than the goat’s had been. His tail ended in a sharp spade that could certainly slice to the bone. Bad’s entire body was a weapon, and Tubbo was uncomfortably aware of it.

“How do we know you won't use this information in the future to hurt us?” Bad asked, his tone polite despite the tension filling the room. Tubbo felt like he was going to cry again. He didn’t want to make more enemies, especially not anyone as formidable as Badboyhalo. Tubbo wasn’t built for conflict like this. 

“I just-” His voice cracked, and he sniffled, quickly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his suit. “I want to be able to live peacefully with Tommy. Dream won’t let that happen,” He said, hating how raspy his voice was. He hated crying. “He destroyed my country, Badboyhalo. I’m sure you saw.”

Bad’s expression changed to one of concern immediately. 

“Oh my goodness, I’d heard about that. Are you okay, Tubbo? I didn’t mean to scare you! Here, we’ll talk, but first you should go clean yourself up in the bathroom, okay?” Bad’s soft heart was probably his most well-known trait. It was always so odd to Tubbo that he was so gentle; his large hand on Tubbo’s shoulder was comforting as he guided Tubbo deeper into the house.

“It’s so easy to forget that you guys are just kids,” Bad said, pointing Tubbo to what he assumed was the bathroom. He stepped inside and shut the door, grateful for the chance to dry his tears and wash his face in private.

He splashed water in the sink and carefully avoided his own reflection. He didn’t want to see the horribly ugly burn scar that stretched across his entire face. It was far worse than the mark from his first death, which was just a clean line from Sapnap’s sword where he’d been stabbed through the heart. He hadn’t been able to stand the sight of himself since he’d died the second time. It had not healed prettily.

He heard arguing outside the door, but he couldn’t hear them well enough to make out what they were saying. Determined to ignore them, he turned on the sink, drowning the sound out. He hoped it wasn’t serious. He wasn’t in any shape to fight anyone off, much less one of the most powerful creatures on the server and his extremely formidable mortal husband. 

The cold water from the sink felt good against his face. He _ hated _ crying. It left his eyes feeling sore and tender, and it made him feel weak. It made him feel and look like a child.

He supposed that it would be helpful, though, in this case. It was no secret that Badboyhalo had a huge soft spot for animals and children.

When he felt a little better, he dried his face off and risked a glance at himself in the mirror. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than he remembered, and it looked like he’d lost more weight. He was always bad at remembering to take care of himself, and that problem was only worsened by all of the stress he’d been under. Scratches and new burns caused by the shrapnel from the earlier explosions littered his entire body.

He hated burns. And explosions. His ears rang and his body ached. He splashed more water on his face and dried off the best he could on an unused towel.

He stepped out of the bathroom to see Skeppy leaning against the wall, alone in the hall. Bad must have left after they’d argued. Despite the apparent conflict, Skeppy seemed to be in higher spirits than he had been when Tubbo first knocked on the door. 

“Bad’s in the kitchen waiting for you. He’s baking,” Skeppy said, a small smile on his face. Tubbo nodded, but didn’t move. He didn’t even have the faintest idea on where the kitchen was. Skeppy seemed to realize that, and he exhaled out his nose, though it seemed to be more in amusement than annoyance. 

“Right, follow me,” He said, grabbing Tubbo by the wrist. His hand was hard and cold, as expected, but his entire body seemed to quietly hum with energy that Tubbo hadn’t detected until he was directly touching him. It was strangely comforting, like a cat’s purr. 

He pulled him into the kitchen, where Bad was waiting. The kitchen was warmer than the rest of the house, from the oven. Bad was leaned down washing dishes in a sink that was abnormally high, but definitely still too short for him to be comfortably using. A compromise between his and Skeppy’s heights, presumably. His hood was down, showing his hair and horns, and he had an oddly adorable apron on, that was a soft pink color with heart patterns.

Skeppy released Tubbo’s arm and took a seat on the high countertops, lounging comfortably. He tapped his hand on the counter, making a loud clink, and Tubbo scrambled up next to him, straining his overused muscles even more. At least they were closer to eye level with Bad, now. The countertop was quartz, like most of the house, but it was polished smooth and shiny, so it didn’t scrape Tubbo’s already irritated and burned hands.

“How much do you know about demons’ lifespans, Tubbo?” Bad asked, glancing over at him. He was much less scary with his clawed hands under soapy water washing dishes and a pink apron on over his red and black clothes. Tubbo shrugged.

“I know you have infinite lives, unlike us mortals, who normally only have three. That’s all, really,” Tubbo said, feeling a little silly. Beside him, Skeppy was playing with a small pile of spilled flour, seemingly uninterested in the conversation. Bad hummed, his tail swishing fluidly through the air like a cat’s. 

“That’s true, partially,” Bad said, rinsing the suds off of the bowl he’d been cleaning. His hands were dark grey, and now that he was paying attention Tubbo could see that they were actually covered by short fur, like an animal’s. His claws were sharp, but neatly maintained. They reminded him of Fundy’s hands, actually, just without the paw pads. 

They didn’t look like the hands of an evil monster.

“In order to walk among mortals, demons need an object to tie themselves to; a Source. We put our souls into it. This keeps us in this plane of existence.” Bad set the dish aside to dry on a towel, before starting to wash the utensils he’d used. The smell of whatever was baking made Tubbo’s stomach rumble, and he hoped desperately it wasn’t audible. Tubbo nodded to show he was listening. Learning about demons by ear was so much easier than struggling with text. 

“Most choose weapons or jewelry as our Source. Something that is strong and will last is ideal, because changing what you’re bonded to hurts. It’s like ripping your own soul out of your body.” Tubbo grimaced at the thought. He liked his soul, as damaged as it was, where it belonged, thanks.

“So if you destroy a demon’s source, it dies?” Tubbo asked, to clarify. He was starting to get a little excited. The prospect of Dream actually having a weakness was encouraging. Of course, he didn’t have the slightest clue what his source could be, but he was positive he could figure it out. 

“Yes. Demons have to keep their Sources close at all times to maintain their strength as well. It’s not good to be too far from your own soul, after all,” Bad said this matter-of-factly, clearly not minding sharing this information despite having to know that he was endangering himself as well.

“What’s your um, Source, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tubbo asked, curious. He never knew this about demons. It probably wasn’t information they were keen to give freely. He couldn’t spot any jewelry on Bad, and while he often carried weapons, he didn’t seem to have any special attachment to any of them.

Beside him, Skeppy chuckled. Bad grinned as well, and Tubbo saw his long, sharp fangs.

“Skeppy is my Source. It’s not advised for us to choose a mortal as a vessel for our soul... They don’t live forever, and once you bond two souls together, you can’t separate them without destroying them both, but…” Bad turned, and even though Tubbo didn’t know him very well, he could absolutely tell in that moment that he was staring at Skeppy with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Skeppy snorted and looked away, but Tubbo could see the huge grin on his face.

“You’re such a sap, Bad. Get back to telling him how to kill that green freak,” Skeppy said, rolling his eyes. Bad laughed and turned back to the dishes, the strange romantically-charged moment was over. Tubbo was never really one for romance, specifically, but he did understand loving someone so much that you’d give your soul to them. He felt like that with Tommy. 

The thought of his little brother drove the growing feeling of contentment right out of him. He missed him so much that it ached. It hurt more than the destruction of his country. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to mend the distance between them even after all that they’d been through together. He wondered if soul bonds were exclusive to demons, or if there was some way a mortal could tie their soul to another mortal.

He had always liked to think of Tommy as his soulmate. 

“Anyways,” Bad said, pulling Tubbo out of his scattered thoughts. “You need to find what Dream’s Source is. If you destroy that, then you’ll destroy him.” He seemed to be finished with the dishes. He dried them and put them away in cabinets that were definitely too high for any normal sized creature to reach without climbing on the counter. 

Tubbo nodded, looking at the floor. 

So it was possible. He could kill Dream. He could… 

“Me and Tommy could live in peace, then?” The possibility didn’t even feel real.

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt something cold and hard press into his side. Skeppy had leaned against him. Tubbo sniffled and hugged him gratefully. He hadn’t had much physical contact ever since Tommy had left, and he was normally an incredibly tactile person. Everyone made fun of him for being clingy for a reason. 

Skeppy was surprisingly good at hugging, despite being made of diamond. The hoodie that he wore was soft, and pressed so close to him, the low hum that emitted from his body felt like a gentle massage. Tubbo sank into the hug gratefully.

“Sorry for bothering you two, I really appreciate the help,” He said, pulling away from the hug. Skeppy nudged him a little, before going back to looking like he was bored and uncaring, staring at a stain of what looked like spilled beetroot juice. He still had a distinctly soft look in his expression, though. Tubbo dried the tears welling up in his eyes and felt like he understood Skeppy a little bit better now. 

“I should really get going, I really owe you guys,” Tubbo said, though he was hesitant to leave. The feeling of dread that he’d felt when he’d first gotten there was gone completely. This was the first time in as long as he could remember that he entered a house that felt like a  _ home _ , despite (or even because of) the demonic presence. 

Bad, shook his head. 

“I don’t want you to owe me anything. How about you stay for some of the cake I’m baking, and we’ll call it fair. I’m always glad to have taste testers around other than Skeppy.” The demon looked hopeful. Tubbo hesitated. He supposed it was only fair to do this one thing for him when he’d given him such crucial information, but it didn’t seem like a fair trade. He had so much work to do.

“Of course I’ll stay, I owe you that and more. I really must be going after that, though,” Tubbo agreed. Bad’s ears perked up and he smiled. While Tubbo was still a little uncomfortably aware of just how massive the demon was compared to him, it was hard to be too afraid of him when he looked so pleased and had treated him so gentle.

“Great! I’ll take the cake out now, and while that’s cooling, I’ll tend to the garden,” Bad decided. “When it’s ready, you can help me decorate it, if you want. I’m terrible at it, and Skeppy always tries to eat the icing.” Tubbo nodded in agreement, fighting a smile at the way Skeppy’s head snapped up and looked at Bad with mock outrage. 

“I do not always eat the icing! You’re the one who sneaks spoonfuls of it while I’m not looking.” Skeppy said, words angry but a grin on his face. He crossed his arms and pouted at Bad, who had turned to glare at Skeppy as soon as he’d started yelling.

“I do not, Skeppy! Why are you lying?” Bad protested, though he looked just as amused as Skeppy did. His tail lashed dangerously behind him, and Tubbo was keenly aware of how it could still be dangerous even in a playful situation like this. He didn’t feel threatened though, in the comfortable atmosphere of the room.

“I’m not lying, you are. At least you were honest about one thing, though. You are  _ terrible _ at decorating cakes,” Skeppy said smugly. Bad let out a low growl.

Tubbo wasn’t really following the conversation, but he did watch in amusement as the two argued. It was clear that neither of them were actually mad. Bad was smiling, and got the cake out the oven as he was arguing without breaking from the conversation at all. It smelled amazing.

Once the two seemed to have their fill of bickering, Badboyhalo took off his apron, hung it on a little hook, and stormed out the door as though he were actually upset. Skeppy snorted and jumped down from the counter, beginning to clean up the small mess that Bad had created while baking. Tubbo jumped at the opportunity to be useful, and began to help him wipe up the spilled flour, bits of eggshell, and beetroot juice staining the counter. 

“Thanks,” Skeppy said, as he made sure the fire in the oven was reduced to simmering coals (Bad always left it burning, according to Skeppy). “It’s our agreement that when one of us cooks, the other cleans. It’s nice,” Skeppy said, voice warm. He seemed to be more friendly towards Tubbo than he had been before. 

Tubbo was struck with a strong pang of yearning. The two were an odd couple, but they were so painfully domestic. Their love for each other showed in every one of their interactions. He’d always wanted something like this. He wanted a house that was full of warmth and love and care for others. He wanted to bake sweet foods and have someone there to clean up after him, and to joke and argue with while doing so. He didn’t want romance, particularly, but the thought of living together with Tommy as a proper family again appealed to him greatly. 

“Are you okay, kid?” Skeppy asked, looking concerned. Tubbo shrugged, but didn’t think it would be fair to go into detail about everything troubling him at the moment. He didn’t want to unload everything onto the first person to ask. Skeppy shrugged back, seeming to understand. It wasn’t like L’manburg’s destruction was a secret. The country didn’t fall silently, after all. Tubbo’s ears still rang from the explosions that tore his home apart. 

“We can go help Bad in the garden if you want. I don’t have anything better to do. I was mostly asleep when you got here.” Skeppy suggested this in a tone that suggested that he was letting Tubbo help them out as a favor to him. It would be a correct assumption. Tubbo had been unable to stay in the present for weeks, and now it was starting to become even harder. He tried to zone back in on what Skeppy was saying.

“You were asleep in the middle of the afternoon?” Tubbo wasn’t one to judge though, honestly. He hadn’t had a decent night’s rest in weeks. He didn’t want to deal with the night terrors that plagued him, and he had been too busy to sleep anyways.

“I’m nocturnal,” Skeppy said, “And Bad prefers the night time anyways. He doesn’t sleep at all, but he likes the stars.”. Tubbo shifted self-consciously. He’d never realized that Skeppy was nocturnal. That definitely made him barging in during the daytime extremely rude. Skeppy seemed to notice that he was spiraling, and shook his head with a snort.

“I was awake when you knocked. I got up to get something to drink, and you knocked when I was going back to my room. I don’t mind getting up a few hours early. More time I get to spend planning pranks. Let’s go now, I’m sure Bad will appreciate your help.”

Tubbo and Skeppy walked outside and saw the demon crouched on the ground by the flowers. The sun was getting lower, and there was a distinct chill in the air now. Tubbo was never a fan of the winter months. Despite the season, the flowers bloomed cheerful and bright, all different shades of color. It was as though it were the middle of spring. The way the petals seemed to almost glow made Tubbo suspect their vitality was more to do with demonic influence than careful caretaking. Bad was carefully digging up weeds from around the flowers with his sharp claws, careful not to harm the surrounding blooms.

Tubbo found it odd to see a monster use something meant to be a weapon for such a delicate purpose. Bad was a creature that was supposed to be hated. It was in his nature to be a wicked thing, and that fact was reflected even in his body. It showed in his fangs and horns and tail. But he was kind and gentle, and it made Tubbo feel even worse about himself.

If a creature like Bad, built only for destruction, could choose instead to lead a life of gentle domesticity, what did it say about Tubbo? Tubbo was a gentle soul. He was a pacifist. Everything about him reflected his nature. His hands were soft and delicate. His body was small; clearly not built for fighting. If he chose to take the violent path, even against his nature, what did that say about him? Didn’t that make him worse than Dream, who was simply embracing his nature with his cruelty?

There was no judgement in Bad’s expression, though, when Tubbo had asked him how to kill a demon. He’d told him, and didn’t even expect anything substantial in return. He didn’t expect anything from him, really, other than for him to eat some cake. He wondered if Bad thought about his own nature like this, or if he was content. He wondered if it was hard for Bad to be kind, like how it was hard for him to be violent.

Tubbo sat next to Bad and began to help him pull the weeds. Skeppy just watched, sitting in the light. The orange color of the setting sun made him look like he was on fire, and the light reflected off of him in shiny patches on the ground. He looked almost ethereal.

Nobody spoke, as there didn’t feel a need to. Tubbo lost himself to the repetitive motion of pulling invasive plants from the rich soul, and his anxious thoughts failed to creep in as the task was just involved enough to keep him distracted. There were several flower beds, and by the time they had finished weeding them all, the darkness was nearly entirely upon them. It was only after Tubbo walked back inside into the light that he realized how badly he’d muddied his suit.

“Oh no!” Bad exclaimed, seeming to notice right after he did. “That’s okay, we’ll wash it for you, and I’ll even sew up the holes. You’re not too much smaller than Skeppy, I’m sure he’ll let you borrow his clothes.” Tubbo smiled gratefully, a grateful flush overtaking his face. Skeppy nodded and disappeared into a room that was presumably his own. 

Skeppy returned with a bundle of clothes that he shoved into Tubbo’s hands, and he stepped into the bathroom to wash up and change. It felt good to take the suit off. He was injured and definitely needed a bath, but he didn’t want to intrude any longer than he already had. The wounds weren’t serious enough to require immediate medical attention anyways.

Skeppy’s clothes did fit him well. They were too long, but Skeppy was only about an inch or so taller than him. They were soft and comfortable. Despite not being his, they fit him more comfortably than that scratchy suit ever did. He didn’t think he was built for rough, official uniforms. He was built for soft fabrics that soothed his skin where it had been rubbed raw from working. Fabrics that didn’t reopen the cuts that decorated his body from his proximity to all of those explosions. 

The soft blue sweater he’d been given was clearly too big for both him and the man he’d borrowed it from, but it felt nice. Like a hug. It reminded him of how, during the colder months, he’d always steal Tommy’s oversized sweaters. His brother was so tall that anything he wore dwarfed Tubbo. It was a comfort. He felt much less anxious with his body covered, like he could ignore what had happened to him if it was out of sight.

When he walked out of the bathroom, he could hear voices coming from the kitchen. He walked in to the middle of another argument, though this time Skeppy was standing up on the tips of his toes, standing so close to Bad that his feet were both between his black talons, yelling up at the demon’s face. Just as before, they were both clearly just having fun. Bad was scowling, but Skeppy wasn’t even pretending to hide his smile as he leaned against Bad. 

Tubbo averted his eyes and cleared his throat, feeling embarrassed. The two turned to look at him, and Bad gently pushed Skeppy away from him so that he could move. Skeppy huffed and elbowed him, but Bad didn’t respond outside of wacking him gently with the flat part of the spade of his tail as he walked past him.

“Cake decorating time!” Bad announced cheerfully, gesturing towards a bowl. It contained what Tubbo could only assume was icing. It was a pale pink and looked amazing. He hadn’t seen anything like this since Niki’s bakery shut down, and that was months ago. His mouth watered.

“The icing’s made from sugar and milk. It’s super good,” Skeppy explained, grinning. Bad gently encouraged Tubbo to step forward, and he picked up the strange triangular utensil that rested near the icing, presumably the intended instrument. 

“Let me show you how to do it,” Bad said, standing behind him. Tubbo felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as the demon guided Tubbo’s wrist, but the brief burst of instinctual panic slipped away, and he started to just enjoy the gentle warmth of another person. It really had been a while since he’d been allowed to have so much casual physical contact. Bad showed him how to smooth the pink icing out over the cake. Once Tubbo got the hang of it, Bad stepped back and let him do it on his own. 

By the time he was satisfied, the icing was only a little off-looking. He’d gotten it as smooth as he could get it, though. There was icing left over, which Skeppy wasted no time in eating straight out of the mixing bowl with a spoon, much to Bad’s disapproval. 

“I told you that you always ate the frosting! You’re just proving me right!” Bad insisted as Skeppy grinned smugly through a mouthful of pink frosting. 

“‘S good, though,” Skeppy said, not sounding regretful at all as he stuffed his already full mouth with another spoonful of frosting. Tubbo wondered faintly about the biology of Skeppy. Was he diamond all the way through, or was it just an outer covering? He clearly could eat, and enjoyed it, so he must’ve had working taste buds and a digestive system.

“ _ Skeppy _ ! Don’t talk with your mouth full, you’re disgusting!” Bad said, distressed. “You’re making a  _ mess _ , you muffin.” It was true. Skeppy had gotten icing all over his hand and hoodie. He didn’t seem to be bothered by it, though.

Tubbo saw a small bowl of sweet berries next to the icing, and thought they’d look good on the cake. Carefully, he began to decorate the top and sides with the bright red fruits. They were unevenly spaced, and it was overall pretty shoddy workmanship, but it was cute. Skeppy and Bad continued to argue until Bad saw that Tubbo was done, and he abruptly shut Skeppy up by talking over him to Tubbo.

“Have you eaten dinner, Tubbo?” Bad asked as he looked over the cake. Skeppy stopped talking abruptly, with a dramatic sigh. Tubbo shook his head. He didn’t think he’d eaten all day, actually. Bad pursed his lips, which was a funny image, with the way some of his long fangs peeked out of his mouth.

“Well, you can’t eat dessert without dinner first. It’s improper,” Bad said, completely serious. Tubbo felt his face burn. “I wasn’t going to enforce this on Skeppy, since this is just like his breakfast, but a growing boy like you needs proper nutrition.”

“Um-” He started, trying to find some way to justify himself, but Bad cut him off. 

“We have plenty of leftover rabbit stew that I can warm up over the fire for you. Wait just a moment,” Bad said, before turning and rummaging through his icebox. Sure enough, he pulled out a sealed container of a chunky stew. He poured a large portion of the soup into an iron pot, which he placed over an unlit cooking fire that rested underneath a chimney. 

The fire was lit, and the stew inside began to be heated. Tubbo’s face felt hot the entire time he waited, feeling like he should be protesting being treated like a young child, but also enjoying it at the same time. It had been a long, long time since an adult took genuine care of him, seemingly without any ulterior motive. 

“Wow, did you see that? He didn’t even ask me if I wanted any stew,” Skeppy grumbled to Tubbo. Tubbo fought back a smile at Bad’s annoyed expression. 

“You never eat stew for breakfast, Skeppy. It’s not a breakfast food!” Bad scolded, sounding offended. He loomed over Skeppy ominously, as if trying to physically frighten him into backing down. He was nearly twice the man’s height. Skeppy didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. The fact that Bad was fighting off a smile probably had something to do with that. 

“Oh, and cake is so much better for you in the morning?” Skeppy spat sarcastically, gesturing towards the pink icing covered monstrosity. Skeppy then seemed to become fascinated with his hand, beginning to clean and shine it where the pink frosting still stuck to him.   
  
“Yes!” Bad insisted defensively, his ears pinned backwards as a sign of annoyance. 

“Says who?” Asked Skeppy, radiating a smug casualness as he paid more attention to his newly-cleaned diamond fingers than the frustrated demon bearing down on him.   
  
“Says me, gosh darn it!” Bad’s tail lashed, and Tubbo couldn’t hold back the laughter that escaped him. Bad glanced at him with a wide smile, before turning back to Skeppy with a more angry expression. Skeppy didn’t respond, only smirked. 

“Ugh, fine. Skeppy, do you want any stew?” Bad asked, annoyance laced in his voice.   
  


“Hmm…” Skeppy paused, as if considering it. He glanced up from his hand and answered, “Nah, I’m good,” Before going back to studying the way the firelight reflected off of his skin.

“Why did you make such a big muffin-y deal, then?!” Bad shouted, and Tubbo laughed as Skeppy descended into a fit of giggles. Bad crossed his arms and sulked. Tubbo really had been completely wrong. Even if Bad was as evil as the rest of the demons at heart, he certainly wasn’t acting like it. Sure, Tubbo knew he relished in chaos, but he was so kind and silly. It reminded him of his family, a little, back before everything started to go wrong.

“Whatever,” Bad hissed out, turning his attention to the fire. He took the stew off and ladled it into a bowl. Tubbo held out his hands, but Bad held onto it, gesturing with his tail towards a connected room.

“How about we go sit down at the table with Tubbo while he eats, Skeppy?” His tone made it clear that it was less of a suggestion and more of an order. Skeppy didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, though, and he followed Bad as he walked to the dining room. 

The table was large enough to seat many guests, but Tubbo had a feeling it went mostly unused. Many of the chairs had dust on them, as if they hadn’t been sat in for a long time. Tubbo sat down at the spot Bad had placed the bowl and spoon, and he began to eat. After the first self-conscious bite, he began to eat ravenously. He hadn’t had a properly filling meal in as long as he could remember. After living off of mostly unseasoned baked potatoes for months, the stew was probably the best thing he’d ever tasted.

By the time he was done, he felt more comfortably full than he had in ages. He wasn’t even sure he still had room for cake. He sheepishly told Badboyhalo this, and the demon only smiled, looking pleased with himself.

“Well, it’s getting late anyways. How about you stay the night and have a slice in the morning before you go?” Bad said, sounding hopeful. Tubbo wanted to protest, since he really did need to get back to work, but the thought of lying in a warm bed in a home like this was extremely tempting. 

“You owe it to us, since we did help you figure out how to kill Dream,” Skeppy reminded him. Bad elbowed him. 

“We would’ve helped you anyways, don’t listen to him. Going after children is too far,” Bad said, his tone suddenly serious. “Listen, Tubbo. We won’t align with your side directly. Our loyalty is to the Badlands, and we’re a strictly neutral party. But that doesn’t mean that we won’t go out of our way to help you as a person. This world is a scary place, and I’m worried about you.”

“Plus, you’re better at decorating cakes than Bad,” Skeppy chimed in. Bad tried to argue, but Skeppy just spoke up louder. “I’ll let you sleep in the guest bedroom.” As Tubbo stood to walk out, Bad ruffled his hair and gave him a smile. Tubbo felt a sense of warmth fill him that he hadn’t felt in a really long time. As Skeppy guided him through the halls to an unused bedroom, complaining cheerfully about Bad, Tubbo couldn’t help but smile.

Regardless of species and supposed inherent evil, Tubbo had made two friends today. They didn’t care about his political alignments, or what power he held. It made warmth swell in his chest. It felt like hope.

**Author's Note:**

> bad said him and skeppy being married in canon is up to the viewers interpretation so you KNOW im gonna interpret. 
> 
> please leave a comment. im planning on writing more dream smp hurt/comfort fics, and id really appreciate some feedback <3
> 
> shoutout to reb, my beta reader and my best bro


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